


A Little Bit Closer

by alliancedogtags



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Battlefield Flirting, Blood and Injury, First Kiss, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ajay loves to tease elliott, but like literally hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliancedogtags/pseuds/alliancedogtags
Summary: octavio gets shot. mirage makes for good company.(in which i don't know exactly how canon goes so i play it safe and yeet it out the window)





	A Little Bit Closer

**Author's Note:**

> all you think of lately / is getting underneath me  
all i dream of lately / is how to get you underneath me
> 
> aka i'm constantly torn between "Legends can actually be injured in apex games" and "apex games are just elaborate paintball matches" and i really wanted to write this, so i don't.... care 😂  
please enjoy!! i'm anxious about posting this but i've really wanted to scrap this up and share it!!  
update: also i just read the new lore abt octane and lifeline?? fake news

When he'd first heard of the Ring, he'd thought it was a joke, really. "So a sadist built this," he'd said in training, to which Alexander had shot him an irritated look. When  _ wasn't _ he annoyed with anything that the trickster did or said? Elliott had given the man a wide berth since day one.

Octavio had laughed, though, which had kinda-sorta-maybe mattered slightly to him.

What he hadn't anticipated is how much that ring would change his life, chase him in his sleep. Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night haunted by phantom aches, electricity in his bones, teeth sore from clenching them and the remnants of pain fresh on his skin. Then he'd be up, inevitably, shaky fingers around the neck of a beer or a cold glass of water, trying to chase away all of the things that went bump in the night.

Being injured and outside the ring, well, that was worse.

"Help me get him to the ring," Lifeline said, and Mirage joined her with an arm around Octavio, limping and bloody and stimmed out. Where his prosthetics were fine, totally geared and working well, his thigh had the bright red of a gunshot blossoming through his shorts. Not to mention his hand, fingers already bruising, the impact of hitting the ground take a toll.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Octane replied, frustration in his voice, strong even for the fact that Elliott and Ajay were practically dragging him through the storm, left leg useless and falling behind him. 

Electricity coursed through his veins, shocking his muscles to the very core of his body. This one was going to hurt. Not just now, but in the hours tonight when he unwound.

Could be worse, though.

The foot of Octavio's prosthetic caught on the edge of a rock, tugging the injured leg and surprising what could only be described as a yelp from the man, non-injured hand gripping Elliott's shoulder so tightly that he could feel it through the material of his armor. This time, the runner sagged slightly in his grip. 

"Not so tough now, are ya?" Lifeline asked, hoisting him up slightly higher. They were close to the edge of the ring now - Elliott couldn't wait for the shock to his body to be gone. He was sure Octavio was even more relieved than he was.

"Ugh, mom," Octavio replied, dropping just slightly in his grip. Both Ajay and Elliott hoisted him up. "I blew off my own legs. I can handle this."

"Yeah, keep ya whingin'. Then we know you're alive." Lifeline helped him lift up the runner, making sure that his feet didn't catch on the debris again.

"Hey, it could be worse. You could be stuck outside the ring with a gunshot wound," Elliott jested, rewarded with a pained laugh from Octane, whose head fell back just slightly. They needed to get a med kit in him, and soon - Elliott could feel the weakness in his grip now, the ring zapping the last little bits that his health could handle. A worried vice clutched at the pit of his stomach.

"See? Elliott agrees with me."

At Ajay's sharp look shot over Octavio's shoulder, Mirage scrambled. "I defi-definitely didn't do that."

"I'm just a few seconds away from leavin' the both of you out here," Ajay said, hoisting him one last time.

Stepping into the ring was a relief that Elliott sorely needed - he wasn't the only one, judging by the way that Octane went slack in their grasp, a gentle sigh escaping him. Together they shuffled him into the shade of a stone outcropping, being out of the sun damn near as much of a relief as being back in the ring. They set him down on his back, giving the racer a moment to pull off his helmet and push his goggles up to his forehead.

Sweat pasted his short curls back, vibrant green at the ends and roots having grown back in black, sides shaved neat and bristly when Mirage's fingers passed over it. There was that dangerous smile when they made eye contact and the raise of a pierced eyebrow. 

"Want to take a picture, amigo?" He asked, and Elliott glanced away quickly, unable to help the small grin that tugged at his lips. All fun, he'd told himself. Octavio flirted for fun, and he shouldn't think more of it.

"It's an image to save for later," Mirage replied, sparking a laugh from the younger legend. He went to continue, but was interrupted by an open-palm smack to the back of his head.

"Both of ya need to quit before I leave ya out here," Lifeline said, stirring them both to the task at hand. She'd opened a medkit, priming the injector. "Mirage, elevate his hand so the swelling slows down."

"You think the fingers are broken, doctora?" Octavio asked, and when Mirage looked down, he'd held up his hand, offering it to him. Elliott took it, palm up, looking at the blood that coated the speedster's hand. The wrist was fine, but his fingers had taken on a bruised hue, purple beneath the short stubs of fingernails and puffy around the joints. When his palm lay in Elliott's, his two unbroken fingers gave a gentle squeeze.

"Lookin' at them, yes," Ajay replied, spinning the medkit injector in her hand before holding it over the gunshot site. "This is gonna hurt, little brother."

"You promise?" Octavio asked, flashing her a grin. One that quickly went away when she pierced the needle into his skin, face twisted in pain instead, his unbroken fingers squeezing Elliott's hand. 

_ He could have died out there. _

Elliott lay his other hand on Octavio's, giving it a gentle squeeze, careful of the broken fingers. At the gesture, the younger legend closed his eyes.

"No dying, though, Octavio," Elliott murmured, tracing fingertips over the back of Octane's. "There's a big party later, remember? Wouldn't want to miss any of that excitement."

Octavio was quiet for a moment, no sound save the hum of the ring and the medkit as it finished its round. Ajay shot him a quick look, before pulling out the bit of bandaging to wrap around the runner's thigh.

"Tavi," Octavio said, voice quiet, edges just a bit rough. When he opened his eyes, it was to the confused look on Elliott's face. The smile that Octavio gave him made his heart skip a beat. "We're good enough friends - you can call me that."

"I bet you say that to all of your fans," Elliott replied, stirring a tired laugh from the other man. 

"You're both terrible, and I'm thinkin' about going home early," Ajay replied, voice sharp, leaving both of them laughing. "Let me see those fingers."

There was a party for the top 3, sure. But nobody went to it. At least not from the Champion squad - ergo Ajay, Elliott, or Octavio. They'd won, sure, but Octavio had been carted off to have his leg worked over, Ajay in tow, and Elliott had been restless and just a smidge lonely. With enough convincing from Anita, he'd decided to visit the ward set up specifically for the contestants.

Ajay looked more at ease here, buns pulled and her natural curls falling over her shoulders, face washed clean from the arena's grit, out of her armor and in a much more casual t shirt with cargo pants. She'd opted to use her headband to keep her hair out of her face.

"Was wonderin' when you'd drop by," she said from her perch on the front desk, having been talking to the nurse in the one adjacent. 

"W-What can I say? I'm highly predictable." Elliott stepped up to the desk, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. "How is he?"

"Those two fingers were broken, but the medkit held his leg together enough to get here," Ajay bit the edge of a nail, flipping up the file in her lap. "Elevatin' did his hand good. He's on a drip for all the lost electrolytes an' such."

"So he'll make a full recovery?"

"Easily."

"Cool. So…" Elliot lifted a hand and ran it along his chin absently, scrambling to find the right words. Ajay gave him an expectant look. "Sure. Right. So I can… I'll go. I'll head out. Good plays today."

"Yeah," came her response. "You too."

Elliott turned on heel, an inner turmoil running through him. What had he expected? Or, better yet, what exactly was he planning to do when he got here, anyways? Hit the gift shop, pick up some flowers, maybe grab a card? That wasn't his type, and they both knew it.

"Actually, is he taking visitors?" Elliott asked, turning to face Ajay again, greeted with a laugh. "You-you were just going to let me walk out the door, huh?"

"I woulda stopped you before you left," Ajay replied, all cheeky grin. "He's in room 105."

"Has anyone told you that you were meant to be a younger sibling?" Elliott shot at her, rewarded now with another laugh. "Trust me, I would know."

Not often did Octane relax. Elliott couldn't think of the last time that he'd seen him in the shade of a tree, or sitting in a chair - well, he'd seen him do that before, but not without an anxious wiggle of a leg, fingers fidgeting with something. Yet here he lay now, the grit and grime wiped from his face and arms, bruised fingers taped together in a splint and injured leg tucked beneath the blankets, the steady beep of the monitor and the drip-drip-drip of the solution sent into his IV. His green curls had been pushed back from his forehead, whether by nurses or errant hands, he wasn't quite sure.

What he was sure of was the way those hazel eyes opened when the door clicked and Elliott's heart raced when they landed on him.

"Now, I can see the headlines. Famous legend Octane unstopped by bullet in the thigh, goes on to win the games," Elliott said, spreading his hands up like a headline. Octavio responded with a laugh, albeit a tired one.

"With some help from his sidekicks," Octavio replied, letting his head fall back into the pillows. His voice was rough from lack of use. This was possibly the only time that Elliott had seen him so worn, darkness beneath his eyes, lines of his face drawn. Elliott closed the door behind himself, crossing the room and opting to sit at the side of the hospital bed.

"How do you feel?" He asked, unsure what exactly to do with his hands, finally settling on fidgeting with the strap of his thigh holster.  _ Shit. Forgot to take that off. _

"Like I was hit by a truck," Octavio replied opening his eyes partway to look at the trickster through his eyelashes. Elliott offered a small smile. "I hate being stuck outside the ring."

"I have nightmares about being stuck outside the ring. Not kidding."

"I believe it." Before Elliott could fully process what was happening, Octavio reached out and laid a hand on his knee, making Elliott's heart skip a beat.  _ Stupid.  _ He thought back to his minor panic attack in the ring, every scenario that could have happened, could have taken the other man away. He was here now, a little banged up but okay, and that was all that mattered to Elliott. Octavio was more serious when he spoke again. "For what it's worth, I'm glad that you two were there. I don't think I could have held it together with other squadmates."

"That's my job." Mirage grinned, resting a hand over the back of Octavio's. "You get hurt, Ajay patches you up, and I provide the humor."

Octavio was quiet for a moment, hand still beneath Mirage's. "Plus the comfort."

"Glad that I could help," Elliot replied, absently studying the weary lines of his face, lingering on the shadow of his green and black curls and the stud in his eyebrow, or the hazel of his eyes,  _ god, since when were they so hazel? _ "Kind of sucks, seeing someone like you go down."

_ Someone fast. _

"Someone pretty?"

_ Yeah, that too. _

"That certainly helps out."

"So you think I'm pretty?" Octane cocked that grin again, sly with sharp edges, making his heart flutter. 

Elliott rolled his shoulders in a shrug, glancing up at the dim screen of the monitor, watching the steady beat of the man's heart. "Sure. Well. Not prettier than me."

"Hard to find anyone prettier." Octavio winked at him, and Elliott wasn't able to stop the grin that pulled at his lips. Reaching forward, he touched the bandages on his hand, the splint on his two broken ones, the scrapes on his palm when the speedster turned his hand over to touch. All of the little things that drew him in, from the tattoo along the inside of his arm, black ink standing out in the low light of the room, cast only by the lamp on his bedside. It was late - they'd obviously been hoping that he'd settle down finally, weary from his injuries, get a good night's sleep. Ajay's convincing, most likely.

Elliott let his fingers trace up, from the veins on the inside of his wrist - soft to touch - to the edges of his tattoo, watching his fingers relax and open, the way Octavio's eyes followed his hand. 

Thought about the tired look in his eyes when he'd pulled his mask off, the blood on his hands and dripping from the prosthesis and onto the dusty yellow of the sand. The sweat on his face when Ajay had injected the medkit. The limp way he'd hung in their arms on the drag to the circle.

"I just knew that I kind of wanted to bring you home," Elliott finally said, breaking the silence that had built up between them. "Tavi."

"I like a man who knows what he wants," Octavio offered with a grin, stretching out the fingers of the hand Elliott was tracing the lines of, brushing his fingers over the trickster's knee. Mirage looked at him through his eyelashes, charming in the low light.

"And what do you think I want?" 

Octavio's uninjured hand wrapped around Elliott's wrist, giving a soft tug. It was all smooth from there - the warmth of Tavi's cheek when Elliot lay a hand on it, the weight of the speedster's hand resting at the back of his neck when he leaned in, the light medical smell that lingered on his skin when he got close.

The way Octavio's lips curled up in a small smile when the older legend finally kissed him, settled back into the pillows, fingers a light scrape against the buzzed hair at the nape of Elliott's neck. He couldn't just leave it at one gentle kiss - found himself surging back in, all sweet lips and the sound of Octavio's laugh when he was kissed again, fingers tracing up the side of his neck. 

Electric. Not the electric that had ached in his skin earlier in the day; a different kind now, tingling where Octavio's hands lay on him, the little shock when teeth teasingly caught his lower lip. 

When Elliott pulled back it was on a satisfied sigh, unable to help the grin that tugged at his lips - when he opened his eyes, the legend had a matching smile as well. Octavio's hand slid down his shoulder to rest on his arm again. Elliott took the cue, hand lowering from his cheek to lay on the lean plane of his chest, warm through the fabric of his hospital gown.

"That what you were looking for, guapo?" Octavio finally asked, breaking the small silence as they both processed what had happened.

_ All that, and more. _

"I don't know," Elliott replied, biting the bullet and sitting back, eyes wandering away as he rubbed his chin in mock indecision. "I don't think that was exactly what I was hoping for. May-Maybe we should try again?"

He was rewarded with hands gripping the front of shirt, hauling him back down.


End file.
